


Light Of My Life

by bluths



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-03
Updated: 2013-02-03
Packaged: 2017-11-28 01:55:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/668927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluths/pseuds/bluths
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_Harry, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Har-ry. The long worn out syllables making your jaw ache, such a sweet sound. He was Haz, plain Haz in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. He was Hazza in slacks. He was Curly at school. He was Harold on the dotted line. But in my arms he was always Harry. Did he have a precursor? He did, indeed he did. In point of fact, there might have been no Harry at all had I not loved, one summer, an initial boy-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Harry was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns. Was I so wrong in thinking that I could love this boy, change this boy? Maybe that’s what led to our inevitable downfalls._

In the summer of 1955 Louis was sick of Eleanor, he was sick of her domineering mother and the insistence he would get from his own family that he needed to get a move on with his family. Eleanor was barren, she could give Louis nothing, and at this point in time, a barren woman was a useless woman. However she was humble, quaint, and very kind. She denied him nothing and provided him with most of what he asked for. She never even asked why he would park outside the schoolhouse every Wednesday. And she would certainly never ask why he would spend so much time with the young boys he had made friends with. She always knew, though, these boys couldn’t be _just_  friends. Still she never asked, and Louis was thankful for that.

He had made a call to a young Miss Anne Cox. She was recently left by her fiancée, such details Louis found irrelevant but allowed her to babble on to him anyway, and currently residing with her young son and the host of an empty room. Ramsdale was small and picturesque but Louis was pleased with it because it was quiet and he wanted to focus on his writings. He planned to make a living on them, but he had lost so much inspiration during his loveless marriage to Eleanor. He explained this to Anne and she understood immediately and promised him solitude and a quiet environment.

He arrives at the house on a Saturday in late June. It’s a white painted house, two stories, with a lovely green garden. Louis takes his baggage out of his car and is greeted by Anne almost instantly. She has shoulder length jet black hair, soft blue eyes, and a tall curvy figure. Louis smiles at her and she envelopes him in a welcoming hug.

“Here at last!” She exclaimed, offering to take his bags.

“Oh no, it’s quite alright, Miss Cox I-“

“Please!” She practically yells. “Call me Anne! It’s so lovely to have a boarder finally; my son and I have been quite lonely since my fiancée left.”

Louis rubbed his jaw awkwardly and cleared his throat, “Yes, I’m quite sorry about that. It’s a shame to have to raise a child by yourself.”

She nodded enthusiastically and rolled her eyes, “Especially Harold, my God, is he a handful.”

Louis must have given a look because she added quickly, “But you needn’t worry, he’ll leave you alone, I’ll make sure of that.”

And Louis wasn’t sure if he  _wanted_  this young boy to leave him alone but he nodded to Anne his understanding and followed her into the house. She showed him the downstairs, and then led him upstairs and showed him to his room. It was small, but it was what Louis needed. He smiled at the desk over by the window, thanking Anne profusely. He had never really had his own desk before.

But what was most distracting was the photograph above the desk. It had to be of her son, Harry; he had curly hair and dimples. His green eyes were lifted slightly and he looked so young and full of life. He was even cuter than Louis imagined, and his cock gave a throb of approval.

“Would you like some lemonade?” She interrupted his thoughts.

“Oh, yes, sure,” Louis stuttered. “That would be great.”

“You’re welcome to wait for me out in the garden, I like mine freshly squeezed.”

Louis wanted to slap himself silly; he couldn’t fuck this up for himself. He wouldn’t let himself. Anne was nice, what if she managed to figure out what Louis thought of her son. He’d be out on the streets faster than he had time to collect his things. And it was almost a sick trick of fate, for when he looked up there Harry was. He was lying in the grass, his mouth, cherry pink lips, wrapped around a lollypop. Louis licked his lips without thinking; he was even more beautiful in person. He had his nose buried in a magazine, giggling every now and then and flashing off his magnificent dimples. He swung his scrawny legs back and forth; brown from being kissed by the sun. Finally when Louis had almost had enough, Harry looked up at him.

He took the lollypop out of his mouth, and his lips curled into a toothy smile. Louis grinned back, unsure if Harry could even really see him, what with the sun being in his way. Anne came to the rescue of Louis’ dirty mind with a glass of freshly squeezed lemonade. They sat by side on the porch swing overlooking the garden. But Louis was really watching Harry.

“So where are you from anyway?” Anne mused. “That accent and all, you’re a foreigner.”

Louis grinned and looked down at his lap, “Yes, I’m from Britain, actually.”

“What are you doing all the way over here then?”

“Well, it’s kind of a long story,” Louis began. “Basically my ex-wife’s parents were really close to mine, so we decided to move out to be close to them.”

“So it was kind of an arranged marriage?” She pressed.

“Well, uh, sort of,” Louis scrunched his eyebrows in thought. “Not exactly. We just kind of fell for each other really. We were friends as teenagers but it just kind of happened.”

“That’s sweet,” Anne smiled serenely. “Harold’s dad was my high school sweetheart.”

“Your ex-husband?” Louis inquired, wanting desperately to steer clear of questions about himself.

“No,” Anne shook her head. “That was my husband before my fiancée.”

“What happened to him?”

Anne gulped and fiddled with her hands and spoke solemnly, “He was killed in the war.”

Louis bit his lip, unsure of what to say to her, “I’m…I’m awfully sorry.”

“It’s quite alright,” she waved him off. “I found someone better, well, who I thought was better. Turns out he’s just as awful as the rest of them.”

But later that night after dinner Louis was contemplating why he  _was_  so infatuated with Harry. It had to of been because he resembled Liam so much. Liam, he could remember Liam distinctly. Liam with the soft hands, the rosy red lips. Liam was his. They had been Harry’s age, 12, scared to tell anyone how they felt for one another. Liam would press his mouth, firm and sticky with candy, against Louis’ and murmur words he thought would be erotic. Liam had such a beautiful body; he didn’t look 12 once he was standing in front of Louis with no clothes on. His hands, the hands Louis could never quite forget. Stroking up and down his length, unsure and unsteady, but so  _soft._  Liam was so pure, and Louis felt he had ruined him. He was killed, however, in an awful automobile accident with his older sister. Ever since Liam, Louis couldn’t move past the feeling of those lovely soft hands, the shy wrapping of the lips around his tender cock.

And just then when Louis thought he had dodged him, Harry was there. Almost nose to nose with Louis, unbearably close and his eyes were fixated on Louis’ diary, which Louis closed immediately.

“Hi,” Harry’s voice was small and barely entering puberty.

“Hello,” Louis nervously countered back.

Harry pulled out another lollypop out of his back pocket and carelessly tore of the wrapper and tossed it on the floor. He inserted it in his mouth, and Louis could see his pink tongue darting across the candy. He squirmed in his seat, fighting the disgusting urges that were coming in waves throughout his entire body.

“Are you from England or something?”

Louis chuckled, “Yes, yes I am.”

“What are you doing all the way in this dump?” Harry kicked the edge of the desk.

Louis paused, unsure of what to say, “Well, I just needed a quiet place to focus on my writing.”

“What’cha writing?” Harry persisted.

“Just some short stories that I’ll probably turn into a novel someday,” Louis replied.

“That sounds boring,” Harry stated.

“Oh really?” Louis shot back. “What isn’t boring, then?”

“Anything but  _writing_ ,” Harry grimaced. “I absolutely hate it. They always make us write stupid stuff in school.”

“I love it,” Louis smiled.

“I wanna see,” Harry said suddenly.

He sat on Louis’ lap without warning, and Louis felt his eyes widen and his whole body stiffen. Harry snatched at the diary before Louis could even think.

“No, you mustn’t!” Louis reached around Harry trying to grab for the diary.

Harry let out a loud laugh, “Calm down, I’m just messing with you.”

“Harold!” Anne’s voice cut sharp, interrupting Harry’s fun instantly.

He sighed and turned around to face his mother, and her nostrils were flaring and her eyes wide. Louis was waiting to be scolded. He was waiting to be told he was a dirty pervert with no morals and that he needed professional help. But instead she stomped over to Harry and tugged him off of Louis’ lap.

“You do  _not_  interrupt Mr. Tomlinson when he’s trying to work, do you understand me?” She reprimanded.

“Yes,  _mother_ ,” Harry huffed.

“Leave him be,” She gave him a soft push out the door and turned to face Louis with an apologetic look.

“Oh my god, Mr. Tomlinson, I’m so sorry about Harold. He’s such a little devil sometimes; he has no respect for anyone or anything around him.”

Louis just shook his head and smiled, “Anne, really, its fine. He’s a young boy. He wasn’t really bothering me anyway.”

“He bothers everyone,” Anne snapped before shutting the door and leaving Louis with his ever growing erection.

And Harry was rude, over the next couple of weeks he would randomly just barge in on Louis writing. He would lie down on the rug and read his magazines and loudly sucking on the lollypop. He never seemed to run out of them, Louis would think. He would roll his eyes every single time Anne came screaming up the stairs looking for him. He’d toss Louis a mischievous look and put his pointer finger against his lips and duck under the bed or inside the closet.

One time in particular Louis was working and Harry was reading his magazines as usual. When Anne came stomping up the stairs yelling that Harry better not be interrupting Louis working. Harry hadn’t given himself enough time and quickly rolled underneath Louis’ desk. Louis’ eyes widened as he felt the back of Harry’s head against his upper thigh, not wanting to think about the heat and the soft brush of his curls.

“Have you seen Harold?” Anne looked around the room warily.

Louis shuddered as he felt some part of Harry’s body brush against his growing erection. He shook his head at Anne, insisting that Harry had never been in here. Anne sighed and walked out of the room, and Harry peeked his head between Louis’ thighs and smiled and whispered a quick thank you before dashing out of his room.

But Harry grew more comfortable with Louis, often sitting on his lap while reading magazines. He would cuddle up to Louis and lay his head across Louis’ lap. Louis let out a sigh of relief every single time Anne would come out and scold Harry rather than Louis. He was always prepared for the worst but it was Harry that Anne was after. She would scream at Harry for every little thing the young boy did. While Louis always felt a pang of joy at the scolding, he felt overwhelming sympathy. Harry was just a little boy and he was just behaving how little boys do. But Louis never dared to intervene this wasn’t his child.

That’s why the sudden decision to send Harry to summer camp hit Louis like a ton of bricks. His precious Harry was being shipped off like some Russian peasant. Louis had just woken up, he had come downstairs to make himself something to eat, but ran frantically back up the stairs, his hunger fading immediately. Anne walked outside screaming at Harry to hurry up and get his things together. Harry was about to slide into the backseat of the car when all of the sudden he glanced up at Louis’ window and saw Louis’ shadowy figure staring back at him.

Without hesitation he sprung from the confines of the car and dodged his angry mother and Louis gulped. He was surely coming to say goodbye, he couldn’t leave without saying goodbye. He heard the clomping of Harry’s shoes on the stairs and a smug grin spread across his face. His door was swung open and Harry leapt into Louis’ waiting arms. He curled his legs around Louis’ back, his hands buried in Louis’ unruly hair. He pressed a hot, sticky mouth to Louis’ dry lips. He was sloppy, his tongue circling Louis’ teeth and the tip of his tongue. But it was erotic, even, just how inexperienced Harry really was. And then just as suddenly Harry was gone. He gave Louis a long, wondering look before he disappeared down the stairs again. Louis pressed his hand against his stomach, his cock was almost uncomfortably hard and his eyes were watering. He couldn’t stand the idea of this being the last time he saw Harry. It couldn’t be. He had so much to show him. 

 


	2. Light Of My Life part II

And just like that he was gone. It was almost like he was never even here. He had barely been gone five minutes before Louis’ chest began to heave. What was he to do if Harry wasn’t here anymore? He bit his lip and walked across the hall to his room. It was just as messy as he had assumed it was, and he realized Anne didn’t yell at him for nothing. There were still some clothes hanging in his closet that he hadn’t taken with him to camp. Almost automatically Louis reached out and wrapped them in his arms and pressed his face against the cotton. He breathed in the scent of Harry, and he couldn’t describe what he smelled like. He smelled like  _Harry_.

He walked out on the landing and saw an envelope with his name written across it in a neat scrawl. He felt his stomach drop as the thought raced through his head,  _could it be from Harry_? He tore it open without haste and was greeted with a letter written in neat cursive. He read ahead and saw that it was signed by Anne. He rolled his eyes and let out a deep sigh. Anxiously he began to read:

_Dear Louis,_

_I love you. I can’t hide my affections any longer. You are the absolute love of my life. I never realized what I didn’t have till you came to stay with us. I’m a lonely and passionate woman and I can’t just run away from this. That is why I am asking you to. Destroy this letter and leave my house immediately. I’ll be home around 5. You see, if you don’t leave, I will just assume that you share my affections. That you want to marry me and be my one and only and be a father to my little boy. And then I won’t have to face the humility of your rejection. I need you, Lou, but not if you don’t need me too._

_Sincerely with all my love,_

_Anne._

They were married two weeks later. Louis couldn’t stand Anne. She was overbearing and pestered him more than anyone he’d ever met. She had grown fatter as well, eating almost everything because she was finally “happy”. Louis had resorted to giving her many sleeping pills so he could avoid his “husbandly duties”. They only worked for about 4 hours, however. It was always in the middle of the night that he would feel her hand start to creep slowly under his pajama pants. He pretended to sleep to avoid anything further. Her rough lips sucked at his neck and she pressed her body against his. It was a useless effort she would realize, after about an hour or so and finally groan and roll over and sleep. Louis would smile in the dark thankful that he had managed another sexless night.

But after about 6 weeks the unthinkable happened. He crawled into bed one night after a series of tests to see if Anne was actually asleep. And so far she had passed all of them. And just when he was about to close his eyes,

“Lou?” She peered into his face and when he reluctantly opened his eyes she let out a sigh of relief and kissed him sweetly.

“Oh at  _last_ ,” she gasped as she moved her hand further into his pants.

It was awkward to say the least. She had decided to be on top, thank God, because Louis didn’t have the strength or the care to be the one in charge. He had to pretend she was Harry high above him, gasping and groaning, his young, pink cock being stroked by his large hands. He had to pretend it was Harry’s lips wrapped around the tip of his dick, tongue flicking gently and exploring. That was enough to get him off, and he rolled away in disgust wishing for it to never happen again. She curled into him, though, exclaiming he was the best she’d ever had.

“You really need to get out more, babe,” Louis replied tersely.

Missing the joke Anne laughed raucously, “I haven’t been fucked like that in ages, how do you do it?”

Louis grimaced and was thankful she couldn’t see, “Nice hips, I guess.”

And really, he should have been thankful for what happened next. He was arriving home from a meeting with the local university about a teaching job. When he walked through the door he expected Anne to run into his arms as she usually did. But she was nowhere to be seen or heard. Perhaps she had gone to the store to fetch some milk as they were running out. Or maybe she had gone across the street to visit the neighbors.

“Hello!” Louis called out, walking around the entry way and living room. “Anne, are you there? I’m home. Hello? Hello? Are you there Anne?”

And he found her in the sitting room and she was sniffling. He approached her carefully and she turned around to face him. She was smoking a cigarette and her hair was a complete mess. Her eyes were puffy and swollen, red from her tears. Her chest heaved and Louis’ eyes grew wide when he saw what she was holding. His diary. She looked betrayed and hurt. This couldn’t be happening, Louis thought, and he prayed he would soon wake up.

“The  _Cox woman_ ,” she began, her voice was venomous. “The fat cow. The obnoxious momma.”

“It’s not..what-“

“You’re a pervert,” she hissed. “You’re an absolute pervert you  _disgusting_  human being-“

“You had  _no right_  to read that!” Louis shouted at her.

She shook her head and her eyes widened, “How dare you. You’re sitting here wanting to…have  _sex_  with my son and I-“

She broke off not being able to finish and when she said it out loud Louis realized how disgusting it truly was. He felt his body shake and he began to say something more but she wouldn’t allow it. Louis didn’t really know what to say in the first place.

“It’s just the um, fragments of a novel I’m writing,” Louis lied terribly. “I just used your name and Harry’s for…um…inspirational purposes and-“

“Get out of my sight you sick bastard!” She screamed. “I’m leaving,  _tonight_. You can keep the house I don’t care. But I’m picking up Harold from camp and you will  _never_  see that obnoxious brat ever again.”

Louis stalked off and approached the foot of the staircase, tears welling in his eyes. Never seeing Harry again was something he couldn’t face. He wanted Anne out of the way for a while now, that he couldn’t deny, but never Harry. He walked back to the room.

“Anne, don’t…you mustn’t do this, you’ll ruin our perfect life together,” the words came out without Louis really even thinking about them and he didn’t sound like himself. She was too busy writing to pay attention and she wouldn’t turn around and he was thankful she didn’t. “I’ll go make us some drinks.”

As he was busy in the kitchen pouring scotch into two tiny glasses filled with ice the phone rang. He sighed and wrung his hands dry and picked up the phone.

“Hello?”

“Is this Louis Tomlinson speaking?” Came a voice.

“Yes, who is this?”

“I’m sorry to tell you this sir, but your wife was killed in an automobile accident,” the solemn voice spoke.

“I,” Louis let out a harsh laugh. “This must be some sort of a mistake. My wife’s in the parlor.”

“No, sir,” the man insisted. “Go look outside, I believe she’s right outside your house.”

Louis hung up the phone and his jaw went slack. It couldn’t be true, could it? He practically sprinted out the front door and was greeted by the entire neighborhood crowded around a car. There was a man bleeding profusely from his forehead and a terrified look came across his face as he saw Louis approach him.

“I’m,” he shook his head and closed his eyes. “I am so sorry, Mr. Tomlinson. She came out of nowhere I didn’t even see her.”

Louis pressed his hand against the man’s shoulder comfortingly, “That’s quite alright.”

He looked down at the twisted body on the ground, and he almost recognized her immediately despite the fact that her face was extremely disfigured. It was his wife, Anne Tomlinson, and now she was gone. Louis looked up at the clouds and realized if there was some God he was on his side. And he realized that if God was on his side he was as sick and twisted as Louis was.

Louis went back into the house and pondered what he would do. He made a call to Harry’s camp saying that he would be there to pick him up by the evening. Next he decided to make a call to a hotel about an hour away from the camp, requesting two twin beds and a bathroom. He hung up the phone and climbed the stairs and wearily packing his things. He pulled random objects from Harry’s room and put them in a suitcase. His heart began to beat faster at the prospect of seeing Harry again. He presumed he would never see Harry again and just the mere thought of holding the young boy in his arms made his insides flip upside down.

He focused on not speeding as he drove to Harry’s camp. His whole body was aching with need and want. And when he entered the foresty entrance to the camp he let out a loud yell of relief to which he was thankful no one could hear. He asked around and everyone told him it was dinner time and Harry would probably be in the cafeteria. He found the camp leader and she smiled warmly at him.

“Haz should be here any minute,” she told him. “I sent Niall out to the barn to get him.”

Louis raised his eyebrows and asked anxiously, “Wait, who’s Niall?”

And then when they were back out at the car Louis asked her once again about this Niall character. But all was forgotten when all of the sudden he heard Harry yell, “Hi dad!”

He was tanner and Louis felt himself shiver with desire. His curls were unruly as ever and his emeralds seemed to sparkle in the sunlight. Louis pressed a hand to his own cheek and smiled widely at the boy approaching him and quickly pressed him against him for a hug. It had been too long since they had been this close. And once they were in the car he could practically feel the warmth of Harry’s bare thigh pressed against his. And the thigh was still smooth, there were hairs scattered here and there but Louis was too eager to care. He patted the thigh and it was just as he imagined, smooth and doughy.

“Where’s my mom?” Harry asked almost immediately.

Louis scratched his cheek and tried to sound as calm as he could,” She’s um, in the hospital. She was having some stomach pains. It’s just you and me for a little while, kiddo. I rented us a hotel room. I figured we could go on an adventure or something.”

“But what about mom?” Harry was as persistent as always.

“We’ll visit her tomorrow…or the next day,” Louis replied upon glancing at Harry’s bare thigh.

They traveled a bit further before Louis looked over at Harry and pulled him in closer and kissed the top of his head, “You know I missed you, kid, I missed you a lot.”

“Well I sure didn’t miss you,” Harry retorted. “In fact, I’ve been revoltingly unfaithful to you.”

“Oh is that right?” Louis smirked.

“Yeah,” Harry nodded. “And anyway, it’s not like you care much about me in the first place.”

“What makes you say that?” Louis was genuinely taken aback.

“Well you haven’t kissed me yet have you,” Harry prompted with his usual cheeky grin.

Louis pulled over the car almost instantly. Harry wasted no time and crawled into his lap. He smashed his lips against Louis and it was almost painful. His tongue was everywhere, wild and wet. He was always searching with that  _tongue_. He licked Louis’ mouth practically and he kept his eyes open. Louis pressed his hands against Harry’s ass, kneading softly and earning himself an eager moan. And this was bliss. He wanted this forever he didn’t want it to end. It was like the kiss in the bedroom, only more passionate. It felt like Harry was his own dirty little secret and he finally had something to call his own.

And then he whimpered and pulled away and Louis was stunned to see why and the gum that Harry had left in his mouth fell into his lap when his jaw dropped at what he saw. A police car. Harry picked the gum off of Louis’ lap and put it back in his mouth. He rolled down his window and the cop followed suit and peered at the two of them. Luckily he didn’t look suspicious of their actions.

“Have you seen a blue sedan pass through hear?” The cop asked hurriedly.

Harry playfully clambered into Louis’ lap causing Louis to groan out in pain. The officer practically winced in sympathy and was a little taken aback by Harry’s blunt behavior. Harry fluttered his eyes and told the cop he hadn’t.

He playfully slapped Louis’ cheeks, “Maybe it was more  _red_ , or  _purple_.”

“Oh, uh, ok, ok, thank you,” the officer stuttered before speeding off.

They arrived at the hotel which was quite posh. Harry laughed and remarked that it was just like Louis to pick the ‘swankiest place’ he could find. Louis and Harry definitely weren’t dressed for it and acquired a lot of looks from passer byers. Louis was checking them in when Harry noticed a small jack russel eagerly wagging its tail at him from across the lobby. He got down on all fours and friskily crawled towards the dog. He petted its soft furry ears for a moment before he looked up at the man who owned the dog. He was dark, smoking a cigarette, he looked mysterious. Harry was captivated by his eyes. They were so dark. They were almost as dark as the man’s skin.

“He likes you,” the owner stated. “He doesn’t like a lot of people.”

“Who does he like?” Harry inquired.

The man took a drag on the cigarette before replying, “He likes sweet people. Young people. Like you.”

Harry grinned, “Well I like him a lot too.”

Louis called Harry over and said their room was ready. He looked around at people nervously as they passed but they seemed to not mind or even be aware of what Louis had planned. Harry followed Louis up to the room, and Louis informed him they would have to share a bed. Harry flopped onto it immediately and told Louis he was crazy. Louis laughed.

“Why darling?”

“Because  _darling_ ,” Harry mocked. “When my darling mother finds out she’ll divorce you and strangle me.”

“Listen, Harry,” Louis bent down so he was face to face with the boy. “I’m your father now. I’ve got to take responsibility for you and make sure you’re safe. And I um, what I’m trying to say is that. I-”

“I think the word you’re looking for is incest,” Harry retorted with a sly grin.

During dinner he and Harry had picked out their nicest suits and Harry said he felt so grown up. And he looked it. He cleaned up so nice and even though he wasn’t so refined in his table manners, Louis couldn’t help but giggle whenever he’d get a bit of food on his face. He bumped knees with him under the table and Louis would blush, struggling to find the words to reply to Harry’s clever quips.

“Don’t look over there,” Harry said suddenly taking a sip of his coke.

And without really thinking Louis looked right where Harry said not to. He was met with a slap, “No, you idiot! I said don’t look.”

He and Harry both laughed. “But why?”

“That’s Malik,” Harry told him. “The playwriter or something. He’s always got a cigarette in his hand. I played with his dog earlier in the lobby.”

“Why can’t I look at him?” Louis questioned.                        

But Harry never answered.

“I was so filthy at camp,” Harry told Louis deviously.

“Were you?” Louis chuckled helping Harry take off his shoes and socks.

“Wanna hear about all the naughty stuff I did?” Harry pushed.

Louis looked him square in the face and a smile broke across his face, “Not tonight, babe, tomorrow maybe.”

“Will you punish me?”

Louis gulped, “There’s no sense in that, and you’re gonna experiment with girls its totally normal.”

Harry laughed as if this were preposterous, “Silly dad! I don’t fuck girls.”

 Louis commanded Harry to sleep and he decided to do a little exploring of his own. He stepped outside to have a cigarette and he saw someone else was already doing the same thing. And Louis recognized him immediately as the Malik figure Harry had told him about. He lit his cigarette and tried to be as quiet as possible. Maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t see Louis.

“Where on earth did you get him?”

“I…what?” Louis had to of heard him incorrectly.

“I said the whole world is going to bedlam,” the man contrited.

“Oh yeah, I suppose so, yeah,” Louis agreed uneasily.

“I’m Zayn Malik, by the way,” Zayn offered.

“I’m Louis, Louis Tomlinson,” Louis replied.

“Who’s the boy?”

“My son,” Louis was unsure of why Zayn had so many questions.

“You lie, he’s not,” Zayn reasoned.

“Excuse me?”

“I said July is hot,” Zayn muttered.

“Yeah, yeah it is.” Louis frowned.

“Where’s his mother?”

“Dead.”

“That’s a shame,” Zayn waved his glass around causing the ice to clink.

“Yeah, it really is,” Louis tried to keep his replies short.

“I’m sorry, I’m very drunk.”

Louis apologized and tried multiple times to leave but the questions kept pouring from Zayn’s mouth. Louis sighed and said he needed to check on Harry and that it was getting late. And as he left he thought he heard “enjoy him” come out of Zayn’s mouth. Louis left more bewildered by the second and began to see just why Harry had cautioned him about Zayn. He was a strange man, nothing he said seemed to make a lot of sense and he seemed extremely condescending. Louis decided almost instantly that he didn’t like him very much.

He went in and lay next to Harry who was fast asleep. Even worse was the fact that Harry was wearing only his underwear which was pressing tight on his boner. Louis grew queasy just looking at it, it almost looked painful. Louis could even see the wet stain of his pre-cum through the dark. When he reached down to touch it Harry rolled the other way and Louis decided it was for the best.

What a day he had. His wife was killed in a tragic car accident, Harry was now an orphan and under his custody. And all he wanted to do was wrap his mouth around his pretty little cock. Maybe Anne was right, maybe he was a pervert and a sick bastard. He should go to jail, he should turn himself in. Before this goes any further, he thought, I should just leave the room, leave Harry, someone will find him and he’ll be in safer arms. But then he almost whimpered at the thought of Harry waking up alone, tears streaking his face, and yelling for his mother or father, both of whom had left him. And Louis wanted to be the consistent thing in Harry’s life if Harry would let him.

He was woken the next morning by Harry gently prodding his face. When he opened his eyes he was met with Harry hovering above him. He smiled up at him and was greeted by a wet kiss, tongue sliding around in his mouth and all over his lips. And he could get used to this.

And then suddenly Harry grabbed his face and turned it the other direction and cupped his hands over his mouth and whispered into Louis ear, “Niall had me play a game with him. It was to see who could put the most dick down their throat without gagging.”

Louis was mortified, “You what?”

Harry smiled deviously and crooned, “I won.”

Louis looked up at him in shock, “You played that with Niall? At camp?”

Harry shook his head, “Don’t tell me you never tried it when you were a kid.”

“Absolutely not.”

Harry mockingly rolled his eyes and straddled Louis’ thighs, “I guess I’m gonna have to show you everything.”

He eagerly untied Louis’ pajama pants and Louis giggled up at Harry as he bit his lip. And my God, did he look so sexy biting his lip. He could cum just from this. Harry suckled at Louis’ neck and it tickled and it wasn’t as pleasurable as Louis was used to. But because it was Harry, it was all pleasurable. He groaned as Harry trailed wet kisses down his stomach, which was exposed after Harry had lifted his shirt up to his chest. He licked the inside of Louis’ naval which caused Louis to buck his hips forward instinctively. Harry looked delighted, almost like he was unwrapping a present. He took no time in the foreplay which Louis was grateful for.

He tugged down Louis’ pajama pants and underwear and his eyes were as wide as they could possibly go as he awed at Louis’ length.

“It’s so big,” Harry gasped.

“Bigger than Niall’s?” Louis teased, wiggling his hips a little, and Harry followed with his eyes.

“Bigger than anyone’s,” Harry marveled.

Louis let out a laugh, “I don’t know about that.”

Harry cautiously wrapped his lips around the head, sucking softly and flitting his tongue against the leaking tip ever so gently. Louis let out a loud moan that caused Harry to moan as well, sending vibrations up and down Louis’ swollen shaft. Harry rubbed what he couldn’t get with his mouth with his hand, the other one gently massaging Louis’ balls. He bucked up without really thinking and Harry’s gag reflex kicked in. Harry immediately jerked away and he had tears in his eyes and he looked quite shocked.

“You lost,” Louis grinned down at him smugly.

“Want me to make you cum or not?”

And that shut Louis up. Harry managed to get more into his mouth, and Louis gasped at the sensation. The inexperience was even more of a turn on for him. And it was ever since he saw Harry sucking on that lolly, all he wanted was to be that lolly. And it was as if every single fantasy he had ever had came true. And if he could just stay like this forever, getting sucked off by Harry, he would. Harry was so good with his tongue, he knew just what to do, just where to lick and how much pressure to add. Louis ran his hands through the messy curls and gave Harry a warning that he was about to cum. Harry just hummed in agreement which brought Louis even closer to the edge. There was a moment where the whole room went white to when Harry was licking the remainder of Louis’ mess off of his fingers that Louis couldn’t quite remember. He just looked up at Harry and was breathless that a mere child could make him feel this way. And he had so much more to teach him and show him.

And then they were on the road again. Harry reading his magazines and refusing to speak to Louis. And Louis was unsure of himself. Harry had told him that he tasted fantastic and that he couldn’t get enough of his big cock. And now, here they were, in a confined space, and Harry had nothing to say. He nervously looked over at him every now and then, testing to see whether Harry would give him the time of day.

“What are you reading?” Louis asked conversationally.

“Nothing,” Harry replied stoically.

Louis bit his lip. What in God’s name…

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

They drove on in silence and every now and then Louis would glance over at the young boy who was staring out the window. He was chasing the rain drops that were collected on the window with slender fingers. Louis shuddered because he remembered  _just_  what those fingers could do. But suddenly Harry let out a groan of pain and thumped his head against the window.

“ _Jesus_ ,” he whined.

Louis looked over at him frantically, “What’s wrong, Haz, what’s wrong?”

“Can we stop at a gas station?” Harry asked him, his lips pouted.

“We can stop anywhere you like,” Louis nodded.

“Well, I need a gas station. I hurt inside.”

Louis’ eyes widened and he looked at Louis bewildered and then Harry scoffed, “What do you expect? I was an innocent little boy before I met you. Now look what you’ve done to me you fucking pervert. I should call the cops and tell them you forced yourself on me you sick bastard.”

Louis’ heart seemed to stop and then he saw that Harry had a smug grin spreading across his face. He smacked him gently on the shoulder and Harry laughed and punched back. And he was pleased at just how quickly Harry’s mood could change. How hormonal he was. But was always worried this day would come. One day Harry would say those words and he would mean them. But Louis wasn’t even his first lover. He didn’t know how many Harry had. He didn’t want to know. He wanted Harry to stay his. He wanted Harry to be naughty for him, not Niall, not any other boys just him.

He watched Harry walk into the gas station and leaned his head back against the headrest. What was he getting himself into? He looked at the other people walking about and wondered what they thought. They probably saw a young boy and his father, probably coming home from Church seeing as it was Sunday, enjoying the afternoon together and stopping for some snacks. And he wondered what they would think if they knew the truth. Surely they would call the police.

After he got out of the gas station he opened the door and inquired, “When are we stopping next? Actually, give me some change. I wanna call my mom.”

“Get in the car,” Louis blanched.

Harry frowned, “Why can’t I call my own mother if I want to?”

“Just get in the car,” Louis sighed.

Harry looked at Louis and squinted his eyes. Louis’ chest heaved and he knew this moment would come. It had to. There was no way around it. Harry would have to know sooner or later that his mother was dead. And he almost wished that when he told Harry they could have a good laugh and discuss their mutual dislike of her. But he knew how these things worked. You always loved your mother, even if it was deep down inside of your heart. You loved her. And Harry was only a child, just a little boy. And now he had no one but Louis the pervert to keep him company. And he could only keep the hyperactive boy occupied for so long.

“Where’s my mom?” Harry demanded after he slammed the door. “Why can’t I call her?”

“Because your mother’s dead,” Louis replied quietly.

Harry didn’t speak for the rest of the car ride and Louis couldn’t say he blamed him. They arrived at the motel and the mood was instantly different than before. Harry requested his own room which Louis obliged him. They both went to bed before 10 o’clock that night. And Louis could hear Harry wailing into his pillow clearly from his own bed. The sobs wracked through Harry’s body and he couldn’t stop. He had absolutely no one. He had two dads and they both left him and then he had his mom and she left him too. He didn’t want to know what was wrong with her or how she died. He didn’t care. He just wanted someone to hold him and tell him everything would be okay.

But Louis couldn’t give Harry that. Because neither of them knew whether or not things  _were_  going to be okay. They could only do this for so long before someone caught on. Summer was ending soon and Harry needed a school. Louis never wanted to go back to Ramsdale. He couldn’t deal with the curious neighbors and the speculations. Most of all, he couldn’t live in that house ever again. He couldn’t bear the thought.

Harry slumped into Louis’ room, uncontrollably sobbing and dry heaving. Louis motioned for Harry to come sit and he did. Louis wrapped his arms around Harry and told him he would protect him and care for him and this only made Harry cry harder. Once again he couldn’t say that he blamed Harry. If he were someone else he’d be terrified of himself. They could only have this for so long. And Louis wanted it to last forever. He wanted Harry to be his forever.

 


	3. Light Of My Life part III

After a while Louis began to see the old shine that Harry would get in his eyes whenever he came around was fading. He seemed almost unimpressed by Louis’ presence. No amount of food or toys Louis bought him could make Harry happy. He realized he was depriving Harry of his boyhood. When they’d drive through towns they’d see other children at play on the sidewalk, laughing and happy, and Harry would just sigh and scowl at Louis. Louis was guilty. He had turned Harry into his own personal play thing and had forgotten entirely that Harry was still a  _child._

They would sit in the rocker together, Harry reading his newspaper, his hair still dripping from his shower and his tiny legs stretched over Louis’. Louis would move Harry so he was positioned perfectly. He’d ease his way inside of him causing Harry to gasp in pleasure pain. He would throw his head back and lay it against Louis’ chest. Moaning and pumping his own hips so Louis was angled inside of him perfectly. And Louis knew this should dirty, he knew he was going to Hell and he knew he was a bad person. But it just felt so good getting Harry off, just from his cock. It felt so good to fill him up and tell him just how beautiful he was.

He decided to enroll him in Beardsley, a prestigious private school with an enriched background in the fine arts. Harry liked to sing, in fact, he was very good at it. He liked to dance and he liked to draw. He had a lot of talent just waiting to be exposed. But Louis rarely let him stay after school for any type of functions. He was weary about Harry’s flirtatious side. The heads of the school were well aware of it and encouraged Louis to let Harry date. Louis was appalled, the thought of Harry going out with some pretty little girl. He demanded Harry stay home.

Most people thought this was just Louis being a protective old fashioned father. They were completely unaware of what he was really keeping Harry home for. They were unaware of what he really wanted for Harry. And Harry was catching on. He knew how to make Louis do whatever he wanted. With just the right flick of his tongue and the perfect movement of his hips and hands he could make Louis like putty in his hands.

“You know how my allowance is a dollar every Friday?” Harry asked Louis one day as he was picking at his cuticles and Louis was reading the newspaper.

“Yes,” Louis replied tersely.

“Well, I really think it should be two dollars,” Harry suggested innocently.

“I think it should just stay a dollar,” Louis wasn’t giving up this easy.

Harry crawled over to Louis’ lap and slowly began to drag his hands across Louis’ thighs. Louis let out a deep groan and peered over at the younger boy below him. Harry’s eyes were devious. He was a wild one and Louis couldn’t take it anymore.

“A dollar fifty,” Louis said weakly.

“Is that all I get?” Harry whispered. “Is that all you’re gonna give me daddy?”

He palmed him through his trousers, running his hot mouth along Louis’ thighs. Louis gasped and bit his lip. He hated when Harry did this, he just wanted to bend him over the desk and take him right there. He wanted to make Harry beg for him instead. Harry was mischievously smirking up at him; he knew just what he was doing. Just the right touch and Louis was begging to cum, begging to feel Harry, begging to be inside.

“I want it to be two dollars,” Harry begged sweetly. “And I want to do the play, please.”

“ _God yes_ ,” Louis caved and moaned and nodded. “God, yes, anything you want.”

Harry freed Louis’ swollen dick from his trousers and let out a hot breath over the tip causing Louis to grasp onto his curls, “I knew you’d give me what I wanted, daddy.”

One day as he walked in to pick Harry up from his play practice he noticed a tall shadowy figure standing at the back of the auditorium. He was smoking a cigarette and Louis’ eyes grew wide. It couldn’t be…

“Hi Mr. Tomlinson,” one of Harry’s young friends smiled up at him.

It was young Nick Grimshaw. He was one of the few people Louis actually let Harry spend time with. Mostly because Harry had assured Louis that Nick had a girlfriend and couldn’t be bothered with him half the time. Louis replied back genially. He kept his eyes focused on the figure in the back.

“What are you looking at Mr. Malik for?” Nick asked him.

Louis was startled and looked back down at Nick, “Oh, I um, I just knew I saw him from somewhere. What is he doing here?”

“He wrote this play,” Nick said proudly. “We’re very lucky to have him. He was very particular about having Harry play the lead role too. He said he’d be perfect for it.”

“Did he now…” Louis replied suspiciously.

He should have known it was Zayn. That should have been his first clue. What did he want with Harry? Why did he insist on having him everywhere he went? Ever since the hotel he couldn’t seem to shake this man. He immediately pulled Harry out and insisted they needed to go home. The sooner he got Harry away from Zayn the better. Harry kicked and screamed at Louis the whole way home. Louis knew it was wrong but he couldn’t let someone else take Harry away from him. He wouldn’t allow it.

Harry grew less aroused by Louis. He would fight him, and he would scream at Louis that he was a pervert and that he wasn’t allowed to touch him. Louis was perplexed. He had been paying Harry for the past few weeks. Harry demanded that if he had to blow him he deserved to be paid for it at least. But Harry became more greedy and wanted more money. Money that he didn’t actually earn. He’d smack Louis mercilessly just for a few coins. He insisted he needed it for something important and refused to tell Louis just what it was for.

He came in the living room one day to see Harry reading another one of his magazines and he barely looked up when Louis came in.

“How have your piano lessons been going?”

“Really, really well actually,” Harry nodded. “I’ve gotten quite good. Maybe I’ll be better than you.”

“That’s funny, considering you’ve skipped the last two classes,” Louis pursed his lips.

Harry looked to the side and then replied coolly, “I was in the park with Nick. We were rehearsing for the play. Nick needed help with his lines and I figured I’d help him.”

Louis mulled this over before replying, “Give me his number.”

Harry gulped, “You want…Nick’s phone number.”

“Yes, I do,” Louis nodded.

Harry gave it to him with a very annoyed look on his face. He got up to the kitchen and came back with a glass of milk by the time Nick’s mother had given the phone to him.

“Hello Mr. Tomlinson!” Nick replied cheerily. “Anything I can do for you?”

“Yeah, there is, actually,” Louis said. “Harry’s been skipping out on piano rehearsals for the past two weeks. He says that he was with you in the park rehearsing lines for the play.”

“That’s true,” he could sense Nick’s fear through the phone. “You see, we didn’t want to tell you because we figured you’d be mad and say no. But I’ve been having a lot of trouble and the play is coming up soon and I-“

Louis hung up the phone sparing himself from the petty rehearsed story.

“Did he confirm?” Harry asked starkly.

Louis sighed and replied, “Yes, he did. And I have no doubt he was well instructed by you.”

He pushed Harry’s legs off the table and Harry gave him a bewildered look, “Whatever game you’re playing, Harry, you can’t play it with me. I won’t let you.”

Harry raised his eyebrows and put his legs back up on the table, “I thought you liked games.”

Louis knocked his legs off again causing Harry to spill his milk on himself and he jumped up and shouted, “Hey, easy mister!”

Louis grabbed ahold of his arms, “What do you think you’re doing? Trying to run away from me?”

“Get away from me you pervert!” Harry screeched at him. “Anyone would try and run away from  _you_ , you sick pedophile.”

“You show me every penny you’ve earned!” Louis roared at the younger boy, shaking him furiously by the wrists.

“I earned that money!” Harry screamed in his face.

Louis struck him across the face, regretting it almost instantly. Harry fell into the chair and held onto his red cheek. Looking up at Louis in pure horror the tears began to pour from his eyes. And Louis tried to reach out to touch him but Harry slapped him away. He stood there for a moment his eyes bearing into Louis’. He refused to look away.

He composed himself before replying firmly, “Go ahead. Murder me. Murder me like you murdered my mother.”

“Harry, I’m sorry I-“

“Murder me like you murdered my mother, murder me! Go on and murder me!” Harry’s voice began getting louder and shriller and Louis begged him to stop, implored him to listen.

“Murder me, murder me, murder me,” Harry screamed through sobs whacking Louis on the arms. “Fucking murder me!”

He ran away from him and screamed hysterically running down the stairs leading out of their apartment. Louis sprinted after him begging for him to stop and trying to apologize. Harry wouldn’t listen, he refused to listen, and he just kept running and screaming. Neighbors were peering out of their doors asking Louis what was wrong but Louis just ignored them. Louis was trying to gain on him but he sped around the corner faster than Louis’ legs could carry him. It was pouring down rain now and Louis could hardly see his hand in front of him.

He prayed to some God above that Harry hadn’t contacted the police. That Harry wouldn’t be that cruel, that Harry wouldn’t defy him like that. But he knew it was too late for him. He was sick. He needed professional help and he was going to get it soon enough. He wanted Harry for his own but then he realized that no one could have Harry. It was almost like trying to catch smoke with your bare hands.

By some miracle he found Harry sitting inside an ice cream parlor, the same one he and Louis frequented. He let out a sigh of relief as Harry came bouncing up to him. He had the goofiest grin on his face, the familiar grin that Louis was used to. Louis looked at him with his mouth agape. Surely this wasn’t the same Harry that he had just been screamed at by an hour ago?

“Dad there you are!” Harry was good at faking happiness. “I was just about to come looking for you. I wanted some ice cream, my throat’s sore.”

Louis nodded and smiled nervously at the woman who was behind the counter. He ordered Harry his ice cream and watched the boy eat it in silence. He didn’t know where to go from here. He didn’t know what was going to happen to them. He was sick of Harry’s sudden mood swings. One moment he would be angry; screaming and slapping Louis. The next he could be so affectionate; kissing Louis sweetly and saying how much he loved him and was so glad he had him. But what happened when one day that all stopped? He woke up and Harry was gone?

As they left the ice cream shop and walked down the street together Harry wrapped his arm around Louis. And Louis returned the favor, smiling down at the little boy. Harry smiled back up at him.

“Let’s blow this joint,” he said suddenly.

“And go where?” Louis grinned down at him.

“Anywhere I want to,” Harry demanded with a smile. “I want to travel the states. I’ve always wanted to but mom was too crabby. She drank too much and she couldn’t drive.”

“I’ll take you anywhere you want,” Louis assured him.

The next day they hit the road at noon. Harry drew all over the map in red pen, marking the places he wanted to go and smiling and kissing Louis profusely. He felt relieved to have his little boy back. Harry seemed more than pleased to be back in the car. Louis decided that Harry was born to travel. He must not have lived much outside of Ramsdale and there was a whole world to see.

But halfway through his anxiety took hold. He was worried about a blue sedan that had been following them for quite some time. He lit a cigarette. He rarely did this around Harry but he was too anxious and worried and he didn’t want to startle him. He tried not to think the worst of the situation. But if someone was following them they had to know about him and Harry. He couldn’t be put away now.

“Harry, reach into the glove box and get out the pad of paper,” he instructed.

Harry didn’t question why this time and did as he was told. On command he wrote down the license plate number:  **Conn PJ44396**

“What’s this for?” Harry asked.

Louis grabbed it out of his hands and inspected it, “I think that car’s following us.”

Harry turned around, “What makes you say that?”

“It’s been behind us for three hours,” Louis sighed.

After a while the car was nowhere to be seen. Louis needed to get gas and stopped at the nearest gas station he could find. He instructed Harry to stay in the car and not speak to anyone. He was inside browsing for various candies and snacks he thought Harry might like. When he peered out again he saw Harry talking to a man in a hat. And he gasped when he saw that man had a cigarette. He threw the snacks down on the ground and sprinted out to the car. He looked around and saw that there was no blue sedan, no man with a cigarette. He was perplexed.

He got into the car and Harry was singing along obnoxiously loudly to some song on the radio and Louis asked him hastily, “Harry, who was that guy? What did he want?”

Harry didn’t answer and just kept singing. Louis reached across him and angrily slammed the door and turned off the radio. Harry turned it back on almost instantly.

“Harry, answer me!” Louis demanded. “What did that man want?”

Harry rolled his eyes, “Calm down. He was lost and he just needed a map. He was probably a traveler and had no idea where he was.”

“You gave him our map?” Louis had to keep himself from shouting.

“Yeah, what other map would I have given him? Besides, I know where I want to go. And it’s more fun this way. We just kind of keep driving aimlessly-“

“Harry, what did I tell you about talking to strangers?” Louis scolded.

“But he was nice,” Harry sighed. “I don’t get the big deal, dad.”

They had a flat. They were in a forest, alone, with a flat tire. Louis wanted to scream at the misfortune. But he wanted to scream even more when he saw what was coming his way. A blue sedan, smoke pouring out of the windows. Louis began to run up to the car, but just as he came close the car began to back away quickly. He turned around again when he heard a yell and saw the car was lunging down the hill.

“Oh no,” he gasped.

He ran back and saw Harry in the front seat guiding the wheel. He looked over at Louis frantically and Louis told him to pull the emergency brake. Eventually the car was stopped, the tire fixed, and Louis could rest easy for now. Once they were on the road again he remembered the blue sedan. Who could that possibly be, in the car? Who wanted to catch him? Was it Harry they were after or was it him? His mind was racing with thoughts.

“Harry, let me see the pad of paper with the numbers and letters,” Louis asked Harry later as they were driving through barren desert lands.

He had no idea where they were but Harry didn’t seem to mind. He preferred not knowing where they were going. It just made Louis more anxious. Harry rolled his eyes and handed it to Louis. Louis flipped it open and saw that what was written previously had been erased and written over.

“Wha-What have you done?” Louis necessitated.

He jerked the car over to the shoulder of the road and looked at the back of Harry’s head for a moment. He was so angry he could barely see. What was Harry playing at? Why was he always toying with Louis’ mind like this?

“Harry,” Louis called to him through a shaky voice.

Slowly Harry turned his head to look at him. He looked blank and Louis was thankful, because if he had been smug he would have been thrashed. He slapped Harry square across the cheek. Harry looked shocked as he turned to look up at Louis, cradling his stinging cheek in his hand. He began to cry and threw open the car door and ran as fast as his little legs could carry him. Louis wasn’t far behind, apologizing and frantic.

He tried to hold Harry in his arms but Harry just screamed, “Get away!”

He finally allowed Louis to hold him. Sobbing into his chest and begging for Louis to let him go. He hugged him back, though. Louis rested his chin upon the young boy’s head, begging for forgiveness and promising for it to never happen again. He didn’t want Harry to leave him. He couldn’t be without Harry. He refused.

In another hotel Louis said he was going to walk down the street to the store and get Harry some fruit. Harry insisted on bananas. Naturally, he was gone longer than he expected. The line was long and people would stop and make casual, pointless conversations with him. He shuddered to think of what Harry was getting up to while he was away. He wanted Harry to be faithful, he told Harry to be faithful. He was a fool to think that Harry would really listen to what he had to say.

And when he arrived, bag of bananas in hand, he saw the bed that he had left Harry in was messy, clothes discarded and he peeked around the doorway of the adjoining room and saw Harry sitting on the bed. He was naked besides the large, oversized white shirt he had borrowed. Louis recognized it to be his own. Harry’s hair was a mess. He had a wet face and he looked like he’d just been through a windstorm. Louis wasn’t stupid, he knew what he had done.

“Harry, did you leave while I was gone?”

“No,” Harry shook his head, caught in a lie. “I’ve been here the whole time.”

“Don’t lie to me,” Louis replied as calmly as he can.

“Well, I did step out for a minute,” Harry replied softly. “It’s just you were gone for so long and I wanted to see if you were coming back.”

“Who is he?” Louis pressed.

Harry let out a chuckle, “Who’s who? What are you talking about?”

Louis through the bag of bananas on the ground and slipped on them carelessly and fell on top of Harry. He began to cry, tears streaking the white shirt and Harry’s face. Harry just laughed at him, he was as cruel as a child on the playground. He begged into Harry’s neck, he wanted to know who he was. Harry unbuttoned Louis’ pants, spreading his legs and allowing Louis an easier access. He gasped as Louis entered him, barely thrusting. Louis was still crying and Harry just remained laughing at him, and Louis could tell he didn’t even have an erection. He was just doing this to tease Louis. Louis let out a strangled cry as he came, begging Harry to tell him.

“Please, Harry, please,” Louis gasped through tears. “Who is he?”

Harry just laughed. He didn’t stop laughing. And he never told Louis. They never spoke of it again they didn’t have time. They were on the road again the next day. They didn’t speak until nightfall and when they arrived at the next motel Harry didn’t look well at all. He was pale and shaking and the woman at the check-in counter insisted that Harry be taken to the hospital. This was the last thing Louis wanted to do, but Harry began to vomit and whined that his stomach was hurting.

The doctors insisted it was nothing serious but they’d have to keep Harry overnight. They refused Louis’ offer to stay with him for the night and sent him to stay at a motel just down the road. It was his first night without Harry and it was full of nightmares. He constantly reached across the bed for a warm, soft body but it wasn’t there. He woke up early the next morning. He had to see Harry. He couldn’t bear the thought of another second without him.

“Hello?” The warm receptionist answered.

“Hi, this is Mr. Tomlinson, just calling about Harry Styles. I’m on my way to pick him up so-“

“Oh, sir, that’s not really necessary. He already left about half an hour ago,” the woman’s kindness practically oozed through the phone.

“With whom?” Louis practically shouted.

“He said he was his uncle. He came in a blue sedan. He was smoking a cigarette and he had nice brown eyes and dark hair. He had a little dog with him too, oh he was so nice. He was so polite,” she gushed.

Louis hung up the phone. It couldn’t be Zayn Malik. What was he after Harry for?  He couldn’t believe they would just let him leave with some stranger. He sped to the hospital and sprinted inside, still wearing his pajamas. He peered in the hospital room he had last seen Harry in and it was completely empty. He saw the doctor down the hall by the front desk and ran to him. He knocked him over on the ground and grabbed him by the throat. He slammed his head into the concrete floor without mercy.

“ _Where is he_ ,” Louis growled. “ _Where. Is. My. Son.”_

Two men in white came out and detained Louis. Demanding he needed to be taken to the mental ward. Louis fought them viciously. Kicking out his feet and legs, trying to bite at their hands and arms. Suddenly he stopped when he looked out the window. He saw two police officers. He quickly calmed down much to the dismay of everyone around him. He apologized profusely insisting that it was early morning and he was worried about his son. He told he forgot his brother was coming to pick him up. They let him go after several mental tests.

After this Louis began searching at various hotels and rest stops. Asking if anyone had seen people looking like Harry. He wasn’t sure what Zayn had done with him or where he had taken him. But if anything were to happen to Harry, Louis would be entirely responsible.

And one day he just gave up. He realized that maybe Harry didn’t want to be found. Even though the names in the registries would change, the handwriting never did. He should have known he was only a temporary lover, someone Harry would use for pleasure when he needed it. But he knew one thing; he would love Harry until the day he died. He could never forget Harry. He wouldn’t allow himself.

_Five Years Later_

He received a letter in the mail one day. He felt like he was in a bad dream when he saw it was addressed to him from Mr. Harry Styles. He took a deep breath before reading:

_Dear Dad,_

_Hi. I know it’s been so long since we’ve spoken. But I’m in desperate need of your help. I didn’t know if you knew this, but I’m married now. I’ve been married to Caroline for almost a year now, and she’s just great. But we’re struggling with our money. We’re in so much debt and I can’t find any way to get out. I’m working, and so is she. But what makes this even worse is that Caroline’s pregnant. The baby should be here within the next few months and if we get no money by then I’m not really sure what we’ll do. You don’t have to do this, Dad, if you don’t want. I know I probably broke your heart. But I need you._

_Sincerely,_

_Harry_

Louis pressed the letter into his chest and let out a loud cry. Harry had moved on. He was with someone else, a woman, and she was with child. This made it even worse. He couldn’t see Harry, he didn’t think he could bear it. But he wanted to give Harry a good life. He wanted Harry to be happy. God knows he’d robbed him of enough already. He couldn’t let another child go to ruin.

The house Harry owned was small, made out of wood, and looked something out an old western film. He was greeted by a large border collie. He knocked on the door and his hands shook nervously as he waited to be let in. When he looked up he was face to face with Harry. He was almost unrecognizable. His curls were as unruly as always, but he was taller. He had broad shoulders and kind, soft green eyes. He looked like a man and Louis found himself completely spellbound once again. Harry smiled at him and he saw the familiar dimples that he loved so much.

“Hi, dad, I didn’t think you would come,” Harry’s voice was so much deeper. “Come on in.”

The house was dirty and unorganized. And Harry looked around anxiously, judging his own house for himself. Louis kept looking at his long torso, his collar bones protruding. He was almost miserable just looking at him. He invited him to sit on the couch with him. Louis sat as far away as he could.

“Where’s your wife?” Louis asked.

“She’s outside feeding the chickens,” Harry grinned. “I think we’re gonna have to sell them. We’re really fucked.”

Louis let out a puff of air, “Harry, this was really…really short notice and I-“

“I know, dad, I know,” Harry nodded. “I get it. I didn’t know who else to call. I don’t have anyone else. You’re basically the only family I have. No one else knows where I went, y’know. So it’d be a shot in the dark calling anyone else. Besides, who else would give it to me?”

“You think I will?” Louis raised his eyebrows.

Harry smirked, “Of course you will.”

Louis began to think. He wanted Harry. He wanted Harry from the moment he first saw him, and he wanted him now. He didn’t care that Harry was a man and that he probably had enough.

Before Louis could stop himself, “Haz, where did you go?”

Harry looked a bit guilty and he scratched the back of his neck, “It was Zayn Malik, dad. I was waiting for you to pick up on that.”

He lit a cigarette as Louis eyed him, “Why did you go?”

“God, he was a dream, practically,” Harry sighed. “He was the only man I was ever crazy about.”

“What about me?” Louis blanched.

Harry didn’t answer, instead he stood up and paced back and forth, blowing smoke and looking uneasy.

“You know what he did?” Harry asked, and Louis shook his head. “He filmed stuff. I had no idea. Sometimes it was with two boys, sometimes two girls. Sometimes it was with himself. And sometimes it was with four men, even. And I remember I said to him one day ‘No I will not blow all those beastly men’. I wanted you. And so he threw me out.”

They grinned at each other for a moment. And Louis was dumbstruck. Even when he was doing all those things, Louis was still on his mind. Harry hadn’t forgotten about him. He loved him, he must have.

“Harry, it’s 25 paces out to the car from your front porch,” he wet his lips and nervously continued. “Make those 25 paces with me. Be with me.”

“What? You want to take me to a motel or something?” Harry snorted.

“No,” Louis said. “Die with me, live with me, be my everything with me.”

“What is this about the money?”

“Even if you say no, I’ll still give you the money,” Louis nodded.

“Really?” Harry was in awe.

“Yes, of course,” He pulled out the envelope addressed to Harold and handed it to him.

Harry opened it while smiling widely at Louis. He pulled out the four stacks of money. They were all labeled with $1000. Harry gasped.

“You’re giving us four thousand dollars?”

He reached out to embrace Louis but Louis jerked away, “Don’t touch me, please. I’ll die if you touch me.”

Harry looked at him apologetically, “I’m…I’m really sorry, Dad. But…I can’t. You should move on, be happy. Find someone like I did”

“Easy for you to say,” Louis spat.

“Dad, really, thanks for the money. I…I really appreciate it.”

Louis nodded back, “It was no trouble, Harry.”

“Dad,” Harry stopped him as he began to walk back to the car. “Louis…do you still love me?”

Louis’ voice caught in his throat, “I couldn’t stop loving you. I’ve never loved anyone like I love you. I want you to love me like this. But you won’t, you can’t. I love you more than I’ve loved anything in my whole life.”

Harry watched him as he walked back to the car and waved furiously at him as he backed away. And he felt a tear slide from his eyes. He was gone. Harry was someone else’s now. But he knew what he had to do. He had to find Zayn Malik. This was all Zayn’s fault and Louis was going to kill him for it.

When he arrived at Zayn’s mansion he felt the venom pulse through his whole body. He kept the gun he had brought with him hidden in his breast pocket. He walked in without being invited. The entire place was dark, just like Zayn. Zayn was a dark figure, he was mysterious and sick. Louis walked into the parlor and found Zayn standing there in a robe smoking a cigarette. Zayn peered at him curiously. He felt disgusted just standing with him.

“Are you Bruce?” Zayn asked. “You look a little too…pale to be Bruce.”

“No,” Louis answered. “You don’t know who I am?”

Zayn looked him up and down and sat down in a chair facing him, “Well, no, I don’t.”

“Try Louis Tomlinson,” Louis snapped.

Zayn let out a loud laugh, “Well I’ll be damned. What took you so long, Tomlinson?”

“You took him from me,” Louis’ voice quivered in anger.

“He wanted to go,” Zayn said simply with a shrug. “He had enough. Who can blame him, really. He needed some real men.”

“You’re going to die, don’t you know that?” Louis hissed.

Zayn looked up at him, “Oh? Why? Because I proved to be a better lover?”

Louis pulled out the gun, “I know what you did, Malik. You’re sicker than the rest of us.”

Zayn stood up instantly and his eyes grew wide and he held up his hands, “Why?”

“You took advantage of me. You took advantage of Harry,” Louis said. “You took him away from me because you scared me. You played games with me. You took advantage of a little boy and tried to make him some sort of…sex slave? He was safe in my hands.”

“Like what you did was so much better,” Zayn sneered.

Louis pressed the trigger. A bullet was lodged into Zayn’s chest. Louis fired again, impaling random parts of Zayn’s body. Zayn staggered past him and Louis followed. He shot him once more in the back, causing Zayn to fall to the ground. Zayn crawled to a vacant bed by the window. He bloodied the white sheets. His entire face covered in blood and Louis was bewildered that he managed to even still be alive. It felt good to watch him suffer. It felt good to make him feel pain. He wanted him to die, he wanted him to see just how it felt to have to lose something special to you.

“Get out of here,” Zayn shouted at him. “Get out of here!”

Louis shot him in the chest again. And this time, Zayn fell back and his chest stopped moving. He had succeeded. Louis didn’t care about the blood on his face or the gun he was still carrying. He got back into his car and drove away. He had made up for it, he thought. Zayn was sicker than anyone he’d ever met, even himself. And he swerved all over the road, too careless to think about the possibility of getting pulled over by the police. Careless to think about the possibility of being charged with the murder of Zayn Malik.

_Harry died Christmas Day in an automobile wreck on the way to the hospital with his wife to give birth to their child._

_Louis died of a heart attack in jail just a short week later._


End file.
